Complimenting John
by Iva1201
Summary: Sometimes the path to hell is paved with the best of intentions… Perhaps Sherlock shouldn't try to praise anyone? Or at least not John. It might be a bit not good.


**Complimenting John**

**by Iva1201**

**Summary: **_Sometimes the path to hell is paved with the best of intentions… Perhaps Sherlock shouldn't try to praise anyone? Or at least not John. It might be a bit not good._

ooooo

Sherlock couldn't help it, but smiled. It was… good… what John had said to him earlier: "That was brilliant."

"That was really amazing," John said later, when their case was finally finished, and Sherlock felt the corners of his lips going up again. Quite against his will.

"Marvellous," John acknowledged a couple of days later.

"Astounding," was the word Sherlock was congratulated by the very next week.

John obviously liked to compliment him – and Sherlock found he was enjoying the praise. Worrying was only that he was simultaneously starting to wish that he could repay John with a compliment of his own – time to time, that's it. Sherlock was after all not sentimental.

He tried the first time at the next crime scene… failing spectacularly (and never noticing). John just estimated the time of death of their victim: "Taking in account the freezing weather of the last few days, the death occurred most likely between 8 and 9 yesterday evening."

Sherlock nodded, the broken watch on the dead man's wrist was showing 8:43 as well. "That was…" _…clever, amazing, brilliant? No, even Anderson would be able to give him the same information, given enough time – although he would need much, much longer than John. How to compliment to John then?_ Finally, Sherlock opted for: "fast."

John, unused to getting praise from his flatmate-colleague-friend, gazed up at him. Seeing Sherlock frowning at the dead man's watch _(Sherlock was examining the devise again now, it was broken much too conveniently, probably no accident then but purpose – why, what would the murderer accomplish by crashing it? Why not take it and sell it – or leave it simply – or destroy it completely?)_, John blushed in embarrassment. Yes, it took longer than usually, but his leg was troubling him today and it took him time to settle next to the body at least a bit comfortably. "I will do better next time," he sighed finally in response.

Sherlock, absorbed by his examination, nodded thoughtlessly. "Thank you, John," he said, gazing at the other man briefly and giving him a small smile before returning his attention to the victim once again. John nodded, promising himself to try and not let the genius he cohabited with down again.

Sherlock wanted to be generous, though, and as he had never really noticed John's reaction from earlier that day, he made tea that evening _(John made tea each time he wanted them to be comfortable at the end of a busy day, so he thought he might repay the favour for once)_, offered a mug to John, taking one himself, and said: "You are usually really remarkably fast when estimating the time of death – or its causes. It's… good. It helps me to solve the cases much faster. I appreciate it… very much, although I… usually do not say it."

Another reminder that he was generally much faster, John thought sadly. He gave a quiet nod, not trusting himself to speak straight away. "I will try to be quick next time again if it helps so much," he promised when he finally found his voice again.

Satisfied, Sherlock smiled; John was accepting his compliment then. That was good. "Yes, John," the detective said genially, "I know you will. Thank you."

They continued to sip their tea in silence then. Sherlock more than pleased with his experiment – and John pondering the ways how to ensure he would not disappoint Sherlock again.

ooooo

Over the course of the next days and weeks, Sherlock attempted to praise John regularly, gradually growing concerned when John's "thank you's" became less and less hearty. _Was the doctor feeling under the weather? Has something happened Sherlock was not aware of? (Harry drinking again – Mycroft abducting John once more – problems at work?) _Sherlock was not able to tell – but decided that more praise should only help…

"Oh, you have ordered Chinese again. That's… nice."

_(John heard "Chinese again" and knew that Sherlock would have likely preferred Italian or Thai or perhaps Indian that evening.)_

"No problem that you are late, Molly says you bought her coffee. That's… good."

_(John understood that Sherlock was trying not to be angry with him for wasting his valuable time for such a mundane – useless – thing as inviting Molly for a cup of coffee.)_

"You spoke to Mycroft? He thought it was a danger night, didn't he? I can appreciate why you would pact with enemies, you know. I recognize you only have my well-being on mind."

_(John heard the irony. Yes, Sherlock was right; one's friends would never pact with enemies, no matter the reason.) _

"This was less daft than usual. Perhaps I can teach you to deduce after all."

_(Meaning I was still idiot in his eyes, John sighed.)_

"You should be at work, shouldn't you? I promise you will be more useful here."

_(As if I cannot be useful anywhere else.)_

"You were faster today. I appreciate it."

_(Nope, I was even slower than in the case with the broken watch. Is he becoming as frustrated with me as with Anderson?)_

"Thanks for texting Lestrade for me. You are… really efficient in this, you know…"

_(Yeah, that's the only thing I am good for to you, isn't it?)_

ooooo

Three weeks in, John had had enough.

When Sherlock knocked on his door one evening, announcing they had a case and he would very much appreciate if John would as usually cancel his work for tomorrow so that he could accompany him to the crime scene instead of examining the hypochondriacs of London, John snapped. He angrily opened the door to find a sheepishly smiling Sherlock on the top of the staircase leading to his bedroom, clutching a new case file, his obvious intention offering it to John, and frowned.

"It will be brilliant, John," Sherlock said, excited, "you will be able to deduce some of this case yourself, I am sure; just look at the photos in the file Lestrade left here. He doesn't see the pattern, but you are cleverer you know – or perhaps it's your living with me rubbing on you…"

John, already tired and annoyed despite Sherlock not recognising the reason, replied with two words only, words Sherlock had never thought to ever hear from him: "Piss off." Then, the doctor slammed his door shut.

It was Sherlock's time to frown. _John was obviously upset for some reason. But why? Sherlock had only offered him praise of lately, hadn't he? _Thinking hard as he was descending the staircase, Sherlock realised what the problem likely was._ Too much praise. It had likely made John feel uncomfortable around him. Alright then, _Sherlock thought,_ no thank you, no phrases such as 'I appreciate you' and never comment on how fast John was able to give you your answers. It obviously troubles the good doctor. _

ooooo

True to his promise, Sherlock didn't utter a word of how he valued John for another several days. To his astonishment, John started to behave normally again. Earlier that day, he had even told Sherlock his deduction was amazing. Sherlock nodded to himself. No praising John Watson from now on then, he thought, threw himself on the sofa and shouted at John in his upstairs bedroom: "Tea, John!"

John Watson, shaking his head at Sherlock's impossible attitude, went to the kitchen and brewed the tea as required.

"It wouldn't hurt you to say please and thank you time to time," he scolded Sherlock, handing him the tea nevertheless.

"No, John," Sherlock agreed amicably and smiled. All was well in 221B Baker Street again.

ooooo

_A review would be nice. (-:_


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